The Death of a King
by WallofIllusion
Summary: Not our Pharaoh, don't worry. Two little angsty things about the emotional aftereffects of Akunamukanon's death.
1. Whispers

A little angsty ko-Pharaoh thing I did a while back. ...Yeah. That's about it. This was inspired by volume 28 of the manga. I dare you to guess how. :P  
DISCLAIMER: I dun own YGO. I dun make money from this. I dun think there's anyone in the world stupid enough to think I do.

AND. Okay, so at the recommendation of Jewel-of-Egypt, instead of saying "Pharaoh" in the dialogue I have used two Egyptian words, "nesu" and "Per-aa". Actually, I'm just kidding, I only used "nesu" in this one, but in the second chapter I used both. (Or is it just Per-aa in there? I don't know.) Anyway... let's see if I have this right. Nesu was an Egyptian word for king, while Per-aa was... sort of an honorific term, used in the presence of the king? is not sure she has it all figured out Go here > htXtp:X/X/jewel-of-egypt.deviantart.Xcom/journal/6899118/for full details. Take out the x's--I can't get it to take without them.

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**Whispers**

One by one, hundreds of people—soldiers, servants, priests—swore loyalty to the new king. But the king stared blankly ahead, only half-feigning attention to those in front of them, as he listened to the whispers. Was he really hearing those soft voices now? Maybe he was just imagining, remembering. The whispers had been following him for days, ever since it had happened, and they always said the same things.

"_Poor child."_

"_He's only eleven!"_

"_He'll be able to handle it. He's so mature for his age."_

"_So like his father. He was a good man."_

"_This one will be no different, I'm sure. He'll make a fine king."_

The young pharaoh suddenly got down from the throne, hopping a little since his feet didn't reach the floor. Offering no excuse, meeting no eyes, he strode out of the chamber and past the many that waited in the hall to meet their new king. They bowed low as he passed; he did not acknowledge them.

But he still heard. They whispered here, too. Would they never leave him alone?

"_I haven't seen him cry once. He's being strong for the people."_

"_It must be hard for him, though, to be thrust into his father's role so soon after the man's passing…"_

"_And he fell ill so suddenly… It can't have been more than a week ago. And now he's gone."_

He resisted the urge to speed up, and he kept his gaze steady. Ignoring the suffocating restriction in his chest that had plagued him ever since that day, the king kept walking. Only once did he tremble; as he passed one of the large pots in the hallway, a fond memory of hiding from his lessons and being found by his father surged forward and made him catch his breath before he could force it away.

Finally he made it to the balcony. He dismissed the guards and stepped out into the cold night air. Then the cloud of numb shock that had surrounded him for days finally dissipated, and he leaned heavily against a pillar as an intense grief sank into his heart.

_Father…_

His breath caught in his chest again and again. When he blinked, something wet clung to his eyelashes and slipped onto his cheeks. He slid down to a sitting position, still leaning on the pillar for support, and curled into a ball.

His hands desperately clutched the large gold pendant that hung from his neck, a gift to him years ago. It had been both an early inheritance and a promise. "You will become nesu after my death, son. Use this Millennium Puzzle to lead and unify the people," his father had said.

"_But I can't,"_ the new pharaoh whispered now. _"I can't do this. Come back, Father…"_

The young king was afraid. He feared the responsibility that was coming, and he feared leading all the people by himself.

But a pharaoh must not be afraid—and he must not weep or show grief. A pharaoh must always be strong. For the people.

All this the newly initiated king knew. And yet he was still afraid. A deafening sob still emerged from his throat, and tears still flowed freely from his regal violet eyes.


	2. Sorry

Slight spoiler warning here. The fact that I don't own YGO hasn't changed in the last minute.

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**Sorry**

The throne room was in an uproar at the Pharaoh's abrupt departure. The vizier, Shimon, asked the six priests to pacify those in the room while he went to find the Pharaoh. Five of the priests immediately set out to do so.

The sixth priest—the newest, initiated only a few days before the former king's death—hung back. But his hesitation had nothing to do with doubt in his powers; no, he was lost in thought. In memory.

"_Mahaado! Is that true! If you made up such a blasphemous lie, I'll have you stripped of the priesthood and executed!"_

"_It is not a lie, Per-aa…"_

"_I cannot believe such a thing! Guards, take him to the dungeons!"_

"Mahaado! Don't just stand there, you useless neophyte!"

Mahaado didn't hear the command. He found himself leaving the throne room by the same route as the young pharaoh, mindlessly walking through the palace.

How long had it been? It was three days ago, wasn't it?

"_M…my lord?"_

"_Mahaado… I apologize for my… blindness. Though I had you imprisoned, I couldn't forget your story, and… I have confirmed it." A deep sigh. "…Do not mention this conversation to my brother. I do not… want to discuss that choice with him."_

"_Yes sir."_

"_The Millennium Ring will be returned to you."_

"_Thank you, sir."_

"…_Mahaado… you'll take care of my son for me, won't you?"_

"_What?"_

The former pharaoh had fallen ill, and the sickness had claimed his life within a few days. Mahaado thought it was probably heartsickness.

_If I hadn't told him…_

Mahaado had wandered in the direction of the balcony. Now he stepped outside, staring into the sky.

He heard a gasp behind him and turned. The new pharaoh was crouched there, wiping his eyes with an almost comic desperation. "P-Priest Mahaado!" the king greeted, obviously trying to sound authoritative. He got to his feet.

Had the pharaoh been crying? Mahaado felt it would be inappropriate to ask such a thing, so he simply gave the king a slight smile. "So this is where you ran off to, Per-aa," he admonished lightly. "You shouldn't do that anymore, now that you're—" But the priest stopped in alarm.

The Pharaoh was staring at him with wide eyes and trembling chin.

"—Per-aa?"

Suddenly the young king clutched his ears. "Don't call me that!" he cried. "Stop! My father—my father is your king! Not me…"

Mahaado caught his breath. "Per-aa… your father is…"—No, he couldn't bring himself to say that—"…no longer capable of ruling."

A short, heavy silence. Then the boy's shoulders sagged and his hands fell limply to his sides. "I know…" he whispered. "I know. My father is dead. I… I have to be the Per-aa." And then he straightened, standing as a pharaoh should, with his head thrown back. But a tear slipped onto his cheek.

His heart aching for the boy, Mahaado gently touched the pharaoh's shoulder. "Per-aa…"

The boy trembled as Mahaado spoke, but swallowed and asked clearly, "Yes?"

_If only I hadn't told your father about the Millennium Items…_

"I'm sorry, Per-aa…"


End file.
